In Your Minds Eye
by Lornesgoldenhair
Summary: Sequel to Forever is a Long Time Without You but not essential to have read it. Clara/12 established relationship. The pair build a planet of their own and are blissfully happy until a shuttle crashes in their woodland and the Doctor loses his sight. Its up to Clara to help him and the pilot uncover the link between the two apparently unrelated events. Whouffaldi
1. Chapter 1

The bloody things were multiplying alright and at a tremendous rate. Clara leaned over the fishtank and peered at the proto-amphibians the Doctor had been working on. She had various issues with them, first that they were weird looking orange things and had three eyes which she was fairly certain he hadn't intended them to have, but secondly that he insisted on growing them on the kitchen table, something to do with regulating their temperature and environment. Mainly though they just stared at her when she was trying to eat and it was frankly creepy.

'Ah there you are!' the Doctor said cheerfully, crossing the living area to meet her by the tank. 'Aren't they doing well?' he leaned down to go eyeball to eyeball with one of the frog-things. It stared back at him and then opened its mouth wide to make a resonating belch.

'Well?' Clara exclaimed, 'They've got three eyes each, and there's dozens of them.'

'Yes, something went a bit awry with the DNA transmogrifier,' he admitted referring to the Anushri terraformation gear he had been experimenting with, 'I think it's easy enough to rectify.'

'Well can you rectify it in the garage?' Clara asked, 'I'm fed up with them on the kitchen table and they make that awful croaking sound at night.'

The Doctor straightened and gave her one of his best looks. Clara sent reinforcements to her heart lest he melt it with his puppy dog eyes.

'They need the stable environment, and the company…'

'They don't need company they are frogs! And anyway they are producing their own company, there's at least twenty of them in there now there were only two yesterday.'

He frowned, 'Yes I think that bit of the DNA went awry too…'

Clara pointed at him, 'Get rid of them.'

'Right…' he chewed his lip.

'Now.'

'Well I was just going to nip to Bleniphet III to acquire some…'

'No! No more weird animals!' Clara declared, 'At least not until you've sorted out the frogs. And the insects. You're running before you can walk. I do not want to look out the window and see huge alien beasts lumbering round the garden, it's getting like Jurassic Park out there. I want bunny rabbits and butterflies and normal things.'

'Normal things are boring Clara, there's such a huge variety of…'

'No! This is not a zoo, this is our home.'

The Doctor pursed his lips and looked disconsolately at his frog collection. She could tell he was about to try and sell her the new acquirement from Bleniphet III.

'It's only a little alien,' he tried.

Clara sighed. Here it comes.

'How little?'

'About the size of Fido… very tame….very affectionate.'

Fido the Gallifreyan Maltheus popped his head up and scrabbled onto a kitchen chair at the mention of his name. He panted enthusiastically and looked from Clara to the Doctor and back again as if awaiting their command, and then he got distracted by the frogs and began batting one of his many paws along the side of the tank making them leap and burp at him.

It wasn't fair, bringing Fido's name into it. Clara was completely soft on Fido as she was on anything small fluffy and dependent. And if she was OK with having Fido the eight legged spider dog what harm could another little cute alien pet do? Clara tried to avoid the Doctor's gaze, knowing she would become putty should they lock eyes. She folded her arms and looked out the window, vaguely aware of him hovering telepathically outside of her consciousness being adorably childlike and enthusiastic and gently prodding with his mind for her permission.

She held out for about a minute.

'Fine!' she exclaimed, 'I'll get my shoes on, but after we get whatever it is you're getting, you are sorting the frogs!'

He grinned widely, kissed her cheek and made for the front door, the blue of the TARDIS visible outside, 'You won't regret it, in fact you will _love_ it, back soon!'

'Oi I'm coming too!'

'No need, no need, I won't be long, you just relax…'

'But…' Clara spluttered, 'You didn't let me come last time either…'

'Ten minutes… you won't even notice I'm gone,' and he was out the door.

Clara watched as he trotted down the path, irritated for a moment that she was being left behind. It wasn't the first of these little jaunts he had taken recently without her and she was beginning to wonder what he was really up to. If he was just collecting specimens for their planet she was fairly certain she would have been able to tag along to pick between the purple lizards and giant birds, after all she had gone with him on much more perilous trips before now.

But he was protective, ridiculously protective in the last few weeks and had more or less ordered her to stay home. At first that had annoyed her too, gone against her naturally adventurous nature and independent streak and then….

Clara saw the TARDIS doors swing shut and couldn't help but smile. Did he know? Was this his way of looking after her? She couldn't stay annoyed because deep down she knew soon she would need him more than ever. She listened to the hum of his mind in the back of hers, always respectful of her privacy, always just out of earshot unless she specifically invited him in, but surely he had felt it? Maybe that accounted for his mood.

He was so utterly different these days. Relaxed, energetic, joyful, full of optimism. His hair had grown out into thick silver curls and he had given up on his severe magician's outfit, replacing it with a comfortable hoodie and relaxed plaid trousers. Half the time he looked like he was wearing pyjamas and to be fair half the time he was, there was little of great import to get dressed formally for.

Six months had gone by since Christmas, since the Anushri planet and the fateful day she thought she had lost him forever and every one of those months, those days had brought her happiness, there in their cottage, on their planet, constructing it just the way they wanted, spending the hours and minutes on things that mattered to them.

The Doctor had blossomed to build his home at last, a job he had done half heartedly in fits and starts over the centuries but which now consumed him because he had someone to build a home for. The lonely world he had created in memory to Gallifrey was now filling with life; flora, fauna, birds, bees and strange frog things and maybe…. Maybe something, _someone_ else.

Clara placed one hand over her belly and pressed her lips together in concentration. Maybe there was another special living thing waiting to join the others in their world. She couldn't yet be sure and as such she hadn't said but… she felt it somehow, inside, and it made her heart leap.

She could skip a few little trips, what did it matter in the grand scheme of things?

'Go on Doctor,' Clara said to herself fondly as she watched the TARDIS dematerialise in their garden, 'Go collect whatever little alien thing you're wanting, we'll be here…'

XXXXXXXX

The room was stifling, warm and muggy. Something had gone wrong with the planet's bio-thermastat again and the whole environment had increased in temperature by ten degrees. Normally she could just get the Doctor to tweak it, but he wasn't here, the empty portion of the bed reminding her of this fact insistently.

Clara spun under the covers and tried to wriggle herself into a more comfortable position. She thumped onto her back and kicked at the sheets. She was sure that the contrast between the balmy summer night and the freezing planet they'd last visited was causing havoc with her body temperature, she hadn't been able to settle for days. The Doctor had made her swaddle up in so many layers it would be of no surprise if her hypothalamus was confused about the environment.

Oh who was she kidding? It wasn't that. Or the bio-therm. She prodded her belly 'Your fault,' she said wryly.

It was 3am. It was always 3am she'd noticed, not that time really meant anything at all when you inhabited your own personal planet and made all the rules, but it was technically 3am and Clara was as alert as ever. Lying there awake, too hot too cold, wondering what he was up to, wondering if he was safe. Didn't he realise how frantic she got despite herself when he was away for days on end on a mystery tour that didn't involve her? Didn't he sense her inner control freak couldn't cope with the not knowing?

Didn't he see how much she cared about him?

She was a lot less calm and philisophical at 3am. And he was infuriating.

No he was Impossible. Her ninety year old dream crab induced self had been right, he was _Impossible_. She wondered why she had ever thought this… _they_ … could work.

Clara winced at her own thoughts.

No, that wasn't true, that was just her anger speaking. Her anger and her insane hormonal need to have him near. They did work, they worked so well, but only when they were together. By herself she became victim to her doubts worries and insecurities. He tended to become victim to aliens.

She spun again under the sheet and contemplated giving up on sleep entirely.

How long had it been this time? A week. A week was about when she started to worry, worry generated from boredom and loneliness. A week when irritation turned to concern and she began to wonder if he'd ever come back, if something had happened. So far, nothing major had, it was mostly a case of piloting the time machine into the wrong week or getting his dates mixed up. Once it was a mild disagreement with an unnamed alien which ended in a nasty looking black eye, but nothing ever truly serious.

Clara turned over and stared out of the window at the faintest light of dawn already beginning to alter the planet's sky. Orange of course, like Gallifrey, dual sunned. She thought of the number of dawns she had seen back on earth, when the light shone a different colour; palest, most fragile grey blue light. Like his eyes.

She thought of his eyes and the last time she saw them, warm with easily expressed affection, pupils wide with love. She could see it in him now, wondered why it had taken her so long to notice and why they had wasted so much time. Wondered why she couldn't see before.

 _Just… just see me._

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stifle the increasing worry and sadness. And then she heard it. That mechanical groaning wheeze that could only be the TARDIS and the room flickered around her with its light. Clara sat up a little in the bed and shielded her face from it, harsh and bright in contrast with the dawn.

She was going to kill him. First he vanishes for a week on a venture to collect a baby alien and now he lands in their room in the middle of the night when she had specifically forbidden him to plant the TARDIS in the cottage… they had a driveway… and a garage and…

The TARDIS lurched and managed to bang off the antique pine wardrobe and Clara squealed. Now he was trashing the room with his unruly time machine. She scooted up the bed in case it went for her next.

It lurched again and for a moment seemed as though it might topple, suspended on an edge at forty five degrees before it tipped backwards onto its base with a thump, let out a gurgle and fell silent.

She groaned. If they had been on earth he'd probably have woken all the neighbours now. Small mercies then at least but she still wasn't impressed. Clara folded her arms and glared at the doors. He was probably in there all too well aware of how mad she was going to be with him and rehearsing some sort of excuse. She glared harder willing him to show himself. After a few moments she heard a shallow thump from within the TARDIS and cocked her head at it. What was he doing?

A scrabbling sound and another thump and the door edged open just a fraction.

Steam.

Clara raised her eyebrows, generally steam was not a good sign, but there it was eking out of the crack in the door and wafting across the deep pile carpet.

'Doctor?' her angry body language softened a little with concern.

The gap widened a little and there was a crunching sound from within, like someone stepping on broken glass. The door jammed a little and she saw it judder, be tugged back before she caught his silhouette against the red interior emergency lights of the time machine.

Oh God what had he done? Clara scuttled off the bed and crossed the floor.

'What's happened?' she asked quickly.

'Clara…' he sounded exhausted.

'Come out of there,' she beckoned urgently, 'Come on!' she reached in and grabbed a stray wrist, pulling him into the darkness of the room, he staggered once, almost tripped on the edge of the TARDIS and then stood before her somewhat limply, head down. She watched as he passed his free hand over his face tiredly. Even in the gloom she could see he was a dishevelled mess, his hair somewhat wild and his jacket missing. Clara squinted at him.

'Where have you been, what have you been doing? Look at the state of you!'

'It's a long story…'

'It always is… except it isn't. Planet. Angry aliens. Am I in the right area?'

'More or less, some details missing but, more or less.'

There was a pause, interrupted only by the dim crackle and hiss of the damaged TARDIS interior.

Clara stared at him, 'You're not going to give me the details?' she said with a modicum of surprise. He always gave her the details whether she wanted them or not. Often at length in the middle of the night or historically when she had a particularly large pile of marking to do.

'Not right now.'

'But you still felt the need to crash land in the bedroom at 3am?'

'Is that the time…?' he asked wearily.

'Yes! I was asleep!' Ok she wasn't asleep she was lying there worrying about him but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge.

'Sorry,' he said meekly.

She opened her mouth and then Clara hesitated. 'Sorry?'

'Sorry I um… I had a bit of trouble programming the co-ordinates.'

'Don't you always,' she grumbled and sat on the bed, secretly just relieved to have him home but he didn't move from the centre of the room and again she cocked her head curiously. 'Are you just going to stand there?' she asked. She caught his profile turning towards the sound of her voice.

'Um…' he said.

Clara reached out and flicked on the bedside light, blinked against it, focused on the Doctor.

'Oh,' she said, her eyes moving over him. 'You look…'

'Bit of a mess I suspect,' he said, his eyes on the floor.

'Just a bit.'

The hoodie had seen better days, its zip broken and its pockets torn. She tracked her gaze up his arms where his pale skin could be seen through clusters of rips in the material, pale except for reddened areas, grazed and cut, the blood drying in the gaps. There were rips too in the plaid material of his trousers and he looked for all the world like he had been crawling through a very angry bramble bush, his knees caked with dirt and mud and his hands covered in tiny scratches. There were scratches on his face too and a nasty cut above his left eye which had streamed blood over his cheek at some point before drying out.

Clara stopped being angry at him, she could reserve that for later, when she was finding out the details, right now he just needed some patching up. She was used to that, make him some tea, force him to have a shower and get changed, rejuvenate him enough to confess his latest adventure. Ultimately she cared, it was always her downfall.

She sighed and pushed herself upright from her knees.

'You need to clean up,'

'Yes…' he said hesitantly.

'I'll make us some tea.'

He still hadn't moved.

'Doctor? Come on, you can't stand there bleeding and dropping mud on the carpet all night, you're lucky I don't just make you sleep on the couch.' She approached him and he flicked his eyes up to meet hers, except they didn't meet, they looked past her unfocused. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp she could see something was wrong.

'Doctor?'

'You might need to…' he started. She watched as he lifted one scratched hand slightly and search the air briefly before finding her arm, his grip immediately tight. 'I need a little help,' he explained, and she watched as his sightless eyes scanned for her unsuccessfully, 'I've gone blind.'


	2. Chapter 2

'Sit!'

'I'm not a pet,'

Fido scrabbled under the table and hopped from side to side four legs at a time before misconstruing Clara's instructions to the Doctor and sitting obediently.

'Sit down,' Clara propelled the Doctor in the direction of a kitchen chair and pushed on his shoulders. He thumped against the table, cursed softly and landed half on the seat.

'You could go a bit more gently…' he mumbled, squaring himself more centrally on the cushion.

'Gently!' Clara spun towards him from where she was now angrily filling the kettle. 'I'm furious with you, in case you hadn't noticed.'

'I'm not _that_ blind.'

'But you _are_ blind… and have been for how long?'

'A few days…'

'A _few days_ and you only now decide it might be an idea to come and get me and ask for some help. A few days, Doctor, what have you been doing?'

'Well not a lot as you might imagine,' he said, 'Bit limited with my activities at the moment.'

'Why did you wait so long?'

'I thought it would get better…' he admitted.

'You thought it would… what just go away by itself…?'

'Yes, that's what it's supposed to do, it's a temporary poison, causes _temporary_ blindness.'

'How long is temporary?'

'Well apparently not a few hours or a few days… maybe a week… or two,' his voice became quiet and guarded.

'And you thought you could wait that out?'

'Um…'

Clara slammed the kettle into position and jabbed the on switch for boil. 'You thought you could wait it out and leave me wondering what was going on… as usual.' Fido whined from under the table.

'I have a time machine I was planning to come back and you'd never know it had happened at all.'

'That's even worse! You're supposed to come to me, I care about you, we discussed this, we are a thing now, and when people are a thing they don't hide other things from one another, especially things of significance, like going blind!'

'Clara…' he said quietly. He was rubbing at his brows with one hand and she stopped mid flow.

'What?' she said with a little more control.

'I was going to come straight back…'

'But…'

'I haven't been very well…'

'Even more reason to come back…'

'No I mean…' he sighed, 'I've been sort of unconscious.'

Clara hesitated. 'Oh, I suppose that would make it… trickier. Unconscious from what?'

She watched as he very gingerly began to peel his hoodie from his body until it became clear just how difficult it was and she felt compelled to step in and tug down the sleeves herself. She lifted it away to reveal the shredded remains of his T-Shirt below, and beneath that…

'Oh God,' she said.

'This particular poison is administered through neatly placed venom sacks… in the creatures' claws.' Clara swallowed and very gently lifted the back of his shirt, she bit her lip and listened to the rest of the explanation. 'Now technically speaking I should be quite a bit dead by now,' he was saying,' As there were more than one of them…'

'How many…?'

'About five, I lost count, too busy running, running and being mauled.'

'Fair enough,' she continued to lift his shirt and watched him wince as the material pulled away from half sealed wounds. Clara dropped it back down carefully and went to rummage in a drawer for some scissors. 'Not attached to this shirt are you?' she said.

'What's left of it… no… why?'

She returned to his back and began chopping through the stained cotton. With each snip more of his damaged skin was revealed and the long deep eviscerations that ran from his shoulders down to his hips. There was blood, and there was poison, at least what she assumed was poison, the blistered skin between the cuts oozing a dark material tinged with green. Clara wrinkled her nose, it had to be seriously painful.

On cue the Doctor sucked in a short breath and tried to move away.

'It needs seeing to,' she said, pulling him back into position by his shoulders.

'How's it looking?'

'Um…' she hesitated.

'That good?' he sighed. 'I really thought the healing coma might do the job, but it was patchy, I couldn't maintain it, something in that poison that acts against the best intentions of my physiology. I woke up after a few days, job only half done. I suspect the wounds will need thoroughly cleansed of it for there to be any real progress. It may also be why I still can't see… poison's still leeching into my bloodstream.'

'You didn't clean the wounds at the time?'

'Rather hampered by them being on my back… and being blind.'

'This is why you should have come back here.'

'Can we stop arguing about this?'

'Are we arguing?'

'It feels like arguing. Look, I'm tired, blind and in considerable pain. Can we just clean the wounds up and...'

'Should have come back here…'

'Clara!' he snapped.

She removed the last of the T-Shirt and watched as he leaned forward over the table a little, his shoulders slumping. Fido was rubbing up against his calves and making small whimpering noises. Briefly the Doctor reached down and scratched his floppy ears.

'I was worried, I had _reason_ to be worried, maybe I should have come with you….' Clara said exchanging glances with the big purple eyes of their concerned Gallifreyan Maltheus.

The Doctor said nothing.

'Doctor…'

He took a breath.

'You couldn't know… It was never intended to be a long trip Clara and I didn't expect this to happen.'

'But it turned into one, a long trip. That's what happens with us. We plan something short and safe and it turns into something dangerous and a lot longer. No, I've decided, next time, no matter where it is you're going, I'm coming too.'

He sighed. 'No you aren't.'

'Don't argue, I'm putting my foot down.'

'Clara, do you really expect me to take you to these places when there is even the slightest chance that one of these creatures might do to you what it did to me?' his voice was low and steady but she could feel him struggle with the words.

'You always did before,' she said.

'Yes well its different now, I have a responsibility for you, more so than ever. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt. You _can't_ be hurt. I can't lose you. Do you understand?'

Something in his tone that would tolerate no argument and which made her eyes burn. She softly stroked her fingers through his mess of silver curls.

'Do you understand?' she echoed, 'That it works both ways? That you are just as important to me?' She felt him stiffen a little under her touch, watched him chew at his lip for a moment and make no reply. He didn't get it or if he did, he didn't believe. She was his world, he had said it to her before now, said it to her and meant it she was sure, but he could never accept that he was hers, even after these months together a part of him doubted, thought it might just all end. It made her heart bleed. He closed his eyes and slowly placed his hands over his face, pushing up with his fingers into his hair, leaning harder on the table, his posture a homage to exhaustion and pain. She could try and make him see all night but he would never accept it. Clara set the feelings aside, now wasn't the time.

Clara dropped a teabag into a mug and added the hot water, half an eye all the time on the Doctor who remained still and tense, the damaged skin on his back cracking and bleeding with each inhalation and movement of his ribs.

'Going to put you in the shower in a bit,' Clara said after a few moments, 'but you're going to drink this first,' she placed the tea in front of him and caught one of his hands, wrapped his fingers around the mug and watched as his other hand followed uncertainly . 'Careful… it's hot.'

'Thank you,' he said softly.

'When was the last time you ate?'

'A while ago.'

'Don't be evasive.'

'Before I was attacked. Infinite spaceship which moves rooms about. Not easy to find things like the kitchen when you're blind even with a helpfully sentient TARDIS trying to guide you.'

'Idiot. You should…'

'… have come back here… I know…'

She sat next to him and let her eyes roam over his face as he hesitantly lifted the tea to his lips and blew, tipped the mug tentatively to sip. He looked uncharacteristically ill at ease and shockingly tired, lips dry, cheeks gaunt. Without his eyes for her to focus on the rest of his features betrayed his fatigue. It occurred to her he was completely bare like this, unable to see her, vulnerable and dependent for once in his life and it allowed her to look at him, truly look at him, at the lines around his eyes and the changing colours of his irises without the walls he sometimes built around himself. He was without bluster, defensive humour, cutting remarks or piercing looks. And he was just worn out.

He was her Doctor, as fragile as any other being who had been beaten and poisoned and blinded. The Oncoming Storm was offline for a while and oh how his enemies would like to see him that way. Clara felt a surge of protectiveness. She slipped one hand over his wrist and let her thumb run along the bones there, the hum of his mind increasing in volume at the contact. She looked at the place where their bodies joined and was grateful for the link.

Clara's eyes ran down his chest, scratched and bruised but nothing like as damaged as his back. She had lain with her head on it just before he left for this planet and listened to his breathing and his heartbeats. She had felt first-hand how cool his skin was, how remarkably soft, how alien, and explored the contours of his body as he kissed her, as they made love. Now she watched him close his eyes and soak in her touch, a warm and familiar thing in the darkness. A year ago he would have flinched at her touch and now she was his comfort.

Clara let him finish his tea, kept a hand on his arm and after a few minutes encouraged him up to stand. He faltered, catching himself against the table, disorientated, his hands came up and she grabbed them, balanced him.

'Turn around,' she instructed, shifting one hand to his waist, 'Bathroom's this way.'

'TARDIS,' he said, 'Trust me it'll be easier, we're going to need a few things…'

She was guiding him back up the stairs to their room, the glow from the time machine's open doors meeting them in the hallway.

'TARDIS is looking a bit beat up…' she remarked.

'Just the console room, the bathrooms and medi-bay are fine.'

'What happened?' Clara deposited the Doctor by the bed as she went to lever open the TARDIS door a little further. It crunched and ground then gave way and revealed a disaster zone of broken and damaged fittings. The words 'bear' and 'china shop' came to mind. She winced and turned back to collect him, watching as he felt his way up her arms, his gaze disconcertingly sightless.

'I didn't shut the door quickly enough,' he said simply, 'They got in after me, two of them, before the shields could activate. I hadn't been expecting trouble, I was ready to leave… let my guard down. Be careful in there… they're still lying about, don't touch them, or anything leaking from them…'

'Poison?' Clara guided him over the threshold into the battered console room.

'Poison,' he confirmed.

The red emergency light flickered and was replaced by something brighter, the TARDIS lighting the way to ensure Clara's safety and prevent the pair of them from bumping into the Doctor's erstwhile assailants. Clara looped one arm around his waist and made for the exit determined to prioritise his care over her curiosity but as she reached the arch leading deep into the time machine she caught a glimpse of one of the bodies, a large mammal, thick brown hair covering heavy shoulders and large claws curved and shining with the same dark substance she had seen oozing from the Doctor's wounds.

'Wow,' she breathed, 'they are pretty ugly…'

'Pretty hard to kill too…' he commented.

'How did you kill them? Sonic? Brute strength? Some kind of impressive Time Lord only move?'

She saw him lean against the archway a little the fatigue evident in his posture and in the shadows of his cheeks.

'Luck, Clara, just luck.'

'Luck?'

'Luck there were only two, luck one was only half grown, luck that I could reach the control panel and that I wasn't two seconds further behind. Just luck.'

She felt sick. Two seconds. Two seconds was all it could have taken.

'Come on, let's get you cleaned up,' she said.

XXXXXXXXX

As always he had been right. The TARDIS bathroom was a better environment for debriding suppurating alien infected wounds not least because there was more space and a seating area but because she suspected the poison would have melted a hole in their bathtub. Clara had almost thought he was joking when he asked her to gown up in the protective gear the TARDIS supplied, a heavy apron and a sturdy set of gloves just for starters, but the moment she applied cleaning gauze to the first laceration she saw it bubble and melt and leapt back with a squeak.

'That is _not_ normal,' she said. 'How am I supposed to do this if it melts all the medi supplies?'

'Still very much potent then,' the Doctor said. 'I had hoped it wasn't quite as acidic by now.'

Clara dumped the partially melted gauze into a lead lined bin. She hadn't turned the water on as yet and the Doctor sat half undressed on a bench inside the shower. He appeared deeply uncomfortable and self-conscious and Clara felt awful for him. They had been intimate for months but there was a difference between the intimacy of lovers and that required when tending to injuries. He was all too aware that she could see and he could not, the weight of her eyes heavy on him taking in his wounds, his body, every shudder of his muscles as the poison seeped through them. On top of that she had had to help him undress to his underwear so his dignity was dented from several directions. She could tell he was in pain, and his blindness seemed to make him less able to hide it from her than usual, as though he could no longer monitor his gestures or expressions quite as well. He leaned forward over his knees and Clara watched in fascinated horror as the dark green exudate seeped from the sides of his wounds.

'You'd best make a start,' he said quietly. Clara chewed her lower lip and stepped forward a little, reached for the shower and let the water start to fall over his shoulders. He hissed immediately and a plume of smoke wafted up from his skin.

'Oh God!' she yelped.

'I'm going to assume that there are some benefits to me being blind at the moment,' he said, 'Please don't describe what's happening.'

The acidic poison was reacting with the water, bubbling on his skin, violently contorting the muscles under its surface. She saw him grit his teeth.

'Are you sure about this?' she asked, 'This… it can't be the best way, its burning you.'

His fingers were digging into his thighs now and he had squeezed his eyes shut. 'Fastest way. There's more water than there is poison. Flood the wounds, scrub them clean, get rid of it…'

'This is really going to hurt…'

'It does already…. Please Clara…'

She drew a breath. Ok, she had to do this, it was going to hurt like hell and then it would be better. She reached for the cleaning fluids and lotions the TARDIS had provided and began working on his back, pouring them directly into the now opening wounds, palpating along the edges of the deep cuts, forcing the poison out of the skin. It pushed through the barely sealed scabs and streamed in burning torrents down his back leaving hot red trails behind it, pooling in the bottom of the shower and around the protective boots Clara was wearing, all the time bubbling and spitting, angry at its displacement.

There was so much of it. She thought it would never stop. As fast as she poured on the cleanser the wounds opened and reopened and more dark poison spilled forth. She could feel the Doctor shaking under her touch at first just a little but as the minutes ticked by he was trembling hard and she began to wonder how much more of it he could stand. Clara could hear his breathing, irregular and stilted, caught the outline of his jaw working as he bit back a cry and still the stuff leeched from him, over her gloves, down the apron she wore.

At last it seemed to slow and finally stop. Clara poured a final dousing of the cleaning fluid over his back and waited, finding nothing oozing from the wounds but clean fresh blood. It tracked over his broken skin and swirled towards the plughole, copious but untainted.

'I think… I think that's all of it….' Clara said.

He was bent at the waist, his hands covering his face, his body soaked and trembling. Clara pulled off the heavy gloves and untied the apron slowly her clothes beneath wet through. She felt hot and sticky, sore from bending and reached to undo some of the buttons of her drenched blouse.

'Doctor?'

She leaned over him and shut off the shower. The sounds of the water ceasing she became quickly aware of another noise.

'Doctor?'

Clara crouched level with him, placed a hand back on his arm and he flinched, but not with pain, she felt the telepathic hint of shame in his mind. He still hid behind his hands, the shuddering of his body more erratic now, and tried to angle himself away from her slightly but she was ahead of him.

'Hey… it's done now…. That's the worst of it… I'm sorry it was so painful… it must have been awful.' She stroked his arm experimentally and heard him bite back a choking noise. God he had to be in agony, he had to be. It had almost pained her just to see what the poison was doing to his skin never mind feel it. Trapped in a dark world, sightless, the sound of water drowning out all else and just that pain. It must have felt like it would never end.

Clara stood and reached for a large towel, intent on getting him bundled up and dry and somewhere comfortable but she had barely draped it around his shoulders when something gave way in him. He reached clumsily forward with both arms and drew her to him, his face against the slight swell of her bare stomach, his arms around her hips and her lower back. She paused, the sudden movement surprising her before she pulled him closer. Clara placed her fingers in his wet hair and held his head, felt him nuzzle against her, heard the sobs rise up from his throat. Her heart ached for his pain and for the difficulty he had even now expressing it to her.

'It's OK…' she murmured, 'It's OK…I've got you… it's over now….'

XXXXXXXX

Clara put him to bed telling him he had to rest, to sleep. And for once he didn't have the energy or desire to protest which worried her in itself as she guided him under the covers and wrapped him up warmly. It might be a summer's night but he was freezing, a combination of his normally low body temperature, the protracted shower and the ongoing effects of the poison. She watched as he turned cautiously on his side and curled up, an odd out of character sight for the man who rarely slept. She glanced over the bandages on his back and checked for leakage before finally leaving him in peace but knew she'd be in there every half hour.

The good news was a scan from the sonic had revealed the bulk of the stuff was out of his system, he just had to heal. The bad news was neither of them knew quite how long that would take in terms of his painful deep wounds or his blindness, but now that he had finally made it home she was going to look after him. She'd received a small amount of protest at that and a mild complaint that boredom would get him if the poison didn't but she could tell it was partly for effect and partly to reassure her that he was his old self really, despite his breakdown in the shower.

He was mortified she could tell and he wouldn't accept reassurance despite her understanding. She'd spent at least half an hour scrubbing and bleaching that poison out of him, the acid tearing at his skin, and he'd withstood all of it. The relief that it was over had tipped him over the edge. There was only so much anyone could take and eventually pain would lead to tears, to an overwrought nervous system if he preferred to think of it that way. If she hadn't been so focused on doing the job she might have cried to see him like that herself. He should stop beating himself up and accept that she loved him and that if he needed to cry he needed to cry and that's how this thing worked now and she would never think any less of him. He was safe with her.

But of course he was Impossible. Time Lords didn't cry. And she almost told him then, about the boy in the barn, whose tears she had witnessed and comforted, but the expression on his face was one of such barely contained emotion she really thought it might break him, so she let it pass. Let him have some dignity, he'd had a hell of a day. He'd looked so relieved that she had allowed him that and quietly asked if he might lie down.

Asked. A quiet vulnerable politeness that was so unlike him and yet revealed the Doctor she always knew lay inside.

Clara had led him to their room. He was out in seconds, his whole body sagging and tears still leaking from his eyes. She kissed his lids and prayed he would see again by morning even though morning was by now very close and the suns were already rising.

But he couldn't see when the first sunrise was over, or the next, or the next.


	3. Chapter 3

A bored and blinded Time Lord was a Time Lord who could get into trouble and Clara rapidly discovered that she needed eyes in the back of her head when the Doctor was without his sight. This morning she had accidentally slept in and he had vanished somewhere causing her no end of alarm when she had finished searching the cottage and its immediate environs to find that both he and Fido were missing. The suns were barely up and the TARDIS was in situ so they had to be somewhere on the planet but that didn't exactly narrow it down. After calling his name for a few minutes Clara decided she might be better off calling Fido's as he was more obedient and likely to both hear and answer. Sure enough on her second shout the little Maltheus yapped in response and moments later could be seen emerging from a cluster of trees at the bottom of the meadow, recalcitrant sunglasses wearing Doctor in tow. Clara trotted across the grass to meet them.

'Where have you been?' she asked exasperated.

'For a walk, what's the panic?' he sauntered over, hands in pockets looking annoyingly at ease, 'We've spoken about this, while Fido is with me it's perfectly OK.'

'You can't see, anything could happen!'

'I can see enough…' he gestured vaguely with one hand in the air around him.

'You have ten percent vision borrowed from a psychic dog its hardly enough to protect you if something happens unexpectedly,'

The Doctor looked down at Fido. 'Like what?'

'I don't know, you could be attacked or…'

' _By_ what? I haven't introduced anything bigger than a toad to the planet yet.'

'Your terraformation always goes wrong, they could mutate into giants, that mouse for example, it was _huge_.'

'Clara you're being a bit dramatic.'

'No I'm not anyway it doesn't have to be an animal, you could trip… or… or… there's a river… a big river… you could fall in and…'

'Fido wouldn't let me fall in… anyway if I did he'd try and drag me out,' Fido skipped around their feet oblivious to the content of their speech apart from the fact his name kept being mentioned so it must be some form of praise.

Clara grabbed one of the Doctor's hands and began marching him back to the cottage. 'I'm just saying you have to be careful, that's all. What if Fido ran off? It would break the psychic link and you'd have no sight at all.'

'He won't do that, he knows he needs to be a guidedog at the moment, Maltheus have been used as guides for centuries on Gallifrey, they are loyal to the core, now stop arguing and flapping, I'm fine, Fido's happy enough doing his job, and you can't keep me cooped up forever I'm going mad with boredom.'

'It's only been two weeks…'

'Only?!'

'You're a Time Lord that's nothing.'

He sighed. 'Yes well it feels a lot longer when I can't use my eyes. I use them all the time normally, I didn't realise how much… I mean I can't read, I can't tinker with any fauna for this place or invent anything, we can't go anywhere, do anything. I can't even see you and your ridiculous too large face, I'm fed up.' She watched as he pouted slightly and bit back a laugh at his waspishness. She felt for him and worried for him, but he was so like a bored teenager sometimes that he reminded her of her students.

'Isn't it getting better at all?' Clara let her fingers twine with his and felt him squeeze back, his peevishness easing.

'No,' he said more calmly, dropping into step beside her and a serious air falling over him. 'And I really don't understand why, it should be starting to lift a little by now, I should have a sense of light and dark, maybe rough objects but it just isn't getting better.'

'What can we do?'

'Well waiting isn't working,' the Doctor said, 'I suppose I'd better consider treatment.'

'Such as?'

'Well that's the problem, no idea, all I've ever encountered about this venom has pointed to it just wearing off, as far as I know there are no specifics about reversing its effects. And I also don't know exactly what damage it's done to be treated in the first place. The best bet is probably to do a scan to find that out first, hope my retinas aren't burned out permanently, and then take the TARDIS somewhere and find the cure whatever it might be. Let's hope it's a case of picking it up at a futuristic medical facility and not something riskier.'

'Knowing our luck we'll need to slay some mythical beast for it.'

'Well you won't be slaying anything.'

'I think you'll find I'be done my fair share of slaying, mister, I'm not being left behind on this one.'

'Clara, you're pregnant, you're not going anywhere.'

She stopped mid stride and tugged on his hand until he faced her.

'How long have you known?' she asked.

'Quite a while. Probably longer than you.'

'Well why didn't you say, then?'

'Why didn't you?'

'I wasn't sure at first and then…. Then this happened and I didn't want to worry you…'

He stepped closer to her and took both her hands in his pulling her against his body. 'Worry about you is what I'm supposed to do.'

'It's why you haven't let me go anywhere isn't it?' Clara grumbled.

'Just as well or it might be you standing here blind and that was just a trip to get a cute alien pet,' he commented.

'That isn't how this works, I'm not a feeble little thing that needs protected from the world!' Clara shoved him in the chest with their linked hands.

'No, but you are carrying my child, and she needs protected.'

She stopped shoving and Clara peered at him, trying to catch his eyes behind his sunglasses, 'She? How do you know it's a she?'

'Heard her, that time in the shower when I…. after you cleaned me up.'

Clara remembered the press of his face against her belly as she'd held him and how he'd gradually stopped crying, held her close and for a time refused to move as he traced his long fingers across the curves of her body, peaceful, drained and in need of the silent connection between them. At least she'd thought it was their silent connection, apparently it was the less silent connection with their daughter.

'You heard her?'

'Telepathic child, takes after me, she was distressed that I was distressed. I had a vague inkling you might be pregnant but I hadn't wanted to pry, it was for you to tell me when you were ready if it was the case. But that day despite how very small she was she was remarkably loud because of the emotions I was letting off so close to her. She didn't like the sound of them, wanted to reach out and help.'

'Doesn't like to hear you in pain…. Takes after me,' she said pointedly. Clara looked briefly down at her stomach and the skirt stretching tighter than before across her hips.

'I'm not putting _either_ of you at risk,' the Doctor said, 'I'd rather keep waiting than take you anywhere dangerous so I can get my sight back.'

'I'd rather help you get your sight back…'

'Tough…'

Clara made a frustrated noise and let go of his hands. 'We'll debate it over breakfast.'

'There's nothing to debate,' he said as they made their way back to the cottage, 'If there's a nicely packaged cure in a pharmacy somewhere I'll go get it, if there isn't and I have to slay a dragon I'll go do that too… maybe…. but you are staying here, quietly reproducing and not putting yourself in harm's way.'

Clara's hand reached the front door, 'Have you heard you? How chauvinistic is that statement? The little woman stays home and has her alien baby while her Time Lord partner goes off to slay a dragon? Have you got a white horse too? Am I allowed to wear shoes while I was the dishes? We've never had that kind of relationship what on earth makes you think we are going to start now? I might be pregnant but I perfectly capable of…'

'Clara… hush…'

'Don't you hush me!' she exploded.

'No Clara… listen…. Do you hear that?'

'Hear what? There's nothing stop trying to change the topic.'

'That buzzing.'

'What buzzing?'

'Shush and listen,' he emphasised.

Clara shushed with difficulty and waited.

'There!' he spun to face the woods again, 'It's coming from over there.'

'I don't hear anything…'

And then she did. A faint drone from the orange sky above the woods getting gradually louder second by second, the Doctor's Time Lord enhanced hearing having picked it up before her own. Clara gazed up into the sky curiously.

'Can you see anything?' he asked.

'If one of your home made insects has mutated,'

'Clara not all my animals mutate,'

'Not all of them are normal either… wait I can see something up there… does look a bit insect like… if that's a giant moth I'm going to kill you.'

But it wasn't a giant moth and as it came closer in the planet's atmosphere Clara could begin to make it out as some sort of ship.

'It's coming in awfully fast,' she said.

'It sounds like something's wrong with it,' the Doctor cocked his head, 'like an engine is out.'

'That might explain the flames….' Clara's eyes widened and she stepped back instinctively, 'Oh god I think it's going to…'

The final seconds of the droning hum ramped up the volume with alarming speed and the fire could be seen streaming from the back end of a thin shuttle shaped machine pouring with smoke and flames. Clara's hands flew to her mouth as it grazed the tops of several trees and then caught in the branches of one, ripped through it and spun once, twice, three times full circle before flopped down through the green growth and crashing resonantly into the hard ground beneath.

'Oh God…' she whispered.

'Something crashed then?'

'Yup…' she eyed the flames licking through their woodland, 'Nothing's moving,' she made to go forward but the Doctor held her arm.

'You aren't going down there, it could be anyone, anything!'

'They could be hurt!'

'They could be dead already let's not rush, you have no idea what's down there.'

'I'm not leaving someone who might be completely innocent to be burned alive in there!' she tugged away from him and began a jog in the direction of the trees.

'Clara! Clara!' he shouted after her before rousing himself in the same direction, 'Come on Fido,'

Clara was a good hundred yards ahead and already shouting into the woods. 'Hello!? Is anyone in there? Are you hurt? Hello?' She shaded her eyes from the heat of the flames as she approached and squinted past the trees at where the shuttle now lay semi destroyed and burning. She could hear something coughing and a clanking of metal.

'Hello? Are you trapped? Wait where you are I'll help you...'

'No!' a voice called from inside the debris, 'No, Clara, you stay there…. I can squeeze out…'

How did they know her name? And there was something about the pronunciation of the 'z' in 'squeeze' which made her hesitate further, try to place the voice but she barely had time to wonder when a head popped up from a broken window and two huge black multi faceted eyes looked back at her, firelight dancing in their lenses. A spindly arm hooked itself over the edge of the shuttle followed by another and a couple of equally thin legs. The creature reached a curved claw forward.

'Could you give me a hand,' it buzzed, 'So sorry about the mess… I did ask them to lend me one of the pilots but they said there weren't any to spare and I've only had a few lessons on this model, it turns out to be a lot trickier than the one I used to fly...'

Clara's mouth hung open but she extended her hand, gripped the proffered claw and tugged until the giant insect came free from the wreckage. It unfurled its wings and gave them a tentative flap before tucking them away neatly and brushing itself down, grinning at her.

'It's so good to see you again,' Eck said gazing at her warmly and then his little mouth fell into a sad curve, 'I just wish I came with better news.'

XXXXXXXX

By the time the Doctor had reached the crash site Clara was hanging off Eck's neck in an enthusiastic hug and Fido had run ahead barking joyfully at the appearance of an old friend. Unfortunately the minimal sight the Doctor could glean from his Maltheus guidedog didn't allow him to immediately identify the spindly shape in front of him so Clara stepped back from the giant wasp and explained his arrival.

Eck turned with a grin towards the Doctor, 'It is so wonderful to see you again Doctor, it is always an honour,' and he held out his little clawed hand in greeting.

'I wish I could say the same,' the Doctor replied. Eck's face fell again. So far in the few minutes he had been on their planet he hadn't known whether to be filled with joy or utterly crestfallen, Clara was beginning to feel a little sorry for him.

'He doesn't mean it like that,' she kicked the Doctor's ankle, 'Do you? You just mean…. Well the Doctor is blind, Eck.'

'Just temporarily… apparently,' the Doctor added.

Eck's face now looked horror stricken, 'Blind? You are blind Doctor? When did this tragedy happen?'

'Couple of weeks ago, anyway never mind that you've just crashed into my planet, what's going on?'

Eck glanced guiltily at his wrecked shuttle and swallowed hard, hard enough the Doctor could hear him.

'Well?'

'I… we…' he stammered.

'Eck?' Clara prompted.

'It feel so wrong now to ask for more assistance… especially when the Doctor is so indisposed…. No we shouldn't ask, he has done so much already Clara and…'

'I am still here you know,' the Doctor huffed.

'Is something wrong on your planet Eck?' Clara took command of the conversation and the Doctor raised his eyebrows, pulling an unhappy expression that he was still being ignored.

'I don't want to trouble you, you have greater concerns…'

'Eck!' she snapped.

'Yes,' he said mournfully, 'Quite some time has passed since your last visit…'

'It's only been six months…' Clara said.

'Six months…. No Clara it has been many years…' Eck said.

'What?'

'Timelines you see…' the Doctor said smugly as here clearly was his area of expertise and he was needed in the conversation after all, 'What I've created here on this planet is essentially a pocket of time which doesn't correspond with any…'

'Shut up,' Clara said, 'How long's it been Eck?'

'Twenty years.'

' _Twenty_ years?'

He smiled gently, 'I am not the young wasp you remember Clara, waiting upon the Doctor on that first trip. Oh I was so awestruck, they are such wonderful memories.'

'Yes well I can't say it was wonderful all the way through, the being ripped apart by a rift in time was distinctly unpleasant…' the Doctor grumbled.

'Will you shut up,' Clara shot back at him, 'Twenty years, Eck, that's… that's a long time.'

'I am a senior adviser now to the Queen,' he said proudly, 'The new Queen that is. And she sent me here to get your help again… but… I see now that your own trials are significant.'

'What do you need help with?' The Doctor asked.

'I'm sorry sir, I do not think you will be able to…'

'It's just blindness it'll wear off! My brain does still function!'

'Will you relax?' Clara hissed.

'Will you two start taking my presence seriously? Eck you're here for help, I need to know what kind.'

'Why don't we go back to the cottage and talk properly,' Clara offered, 'Eck has just crashlanded he probably needs a cup pf tea and a sit down.'

The Doctor sighed and turned back towards the house, Fido scampering ahead.

'Sorry,' Clara said quietly to Eck, 'He's finding it pretty frustrating, it should have worn off by now and isn't…'

'I can hear you, you know…'

Eck frowned and offered his arm to Clara, pulling gently and hanging back on the path as the Doctor walked ahead. She furrowed her brows, 'What is it?'

'A temporary poison?' he asked.

'Yes,'

Eck nodded to himself, 'Then you need an antidote… '

'He says he doesn't know of one, we were going to try and look but he won't let me help because…'

'Because?'

'Doesn't matter…'

They walked on, the patter of Eck's multiple feet on the path sounded like rain.

'Have you any of the original poison?' Eck asked suddenly.

'I'm not sure, why?'

'It's easier to find an antidote if you have the original…'

'I really don't know, the things that attacked him were on the TARDIS for a while but she cleaned up pretty well afterwards.'

Clara studied his face, thoughtful and inscrutable. At last he straightened his bowed head. 'I have an idea Clara but I will need your help with it.'

'I'll help you but you can't tell him he'll go mad. He's gone all super protective.'

'You are his capable companion Clara he should have more faith.'

'Yes!' she puffed out her chest, 'He should!'

Eck laughed and carried on.

'Before I was an adviser I had another job, do you remember?'

Clara thought back and the memories hit her quickly, memories of Eck thrusting a healing potion into her hands ready for her to step through the rift and save the Doctor.

'You made potions…' she smiled.

'I was a herbalist, yes…'

'So if anyone can find an antidote….' She grinned.

Eck blushed, 'I've a better than average chance perhaps but I wouldn't want to sell myself too high...'

He gasped as Clara squeezed him tight in another hug. 'And I am being selfish too…' he added squeakily, 'We really do need your help.'

'And you know we will give it,' Clara confirmed, 'with or without a cure we'll help you, you know that.' She stepped back and held his skinny shoulders, 'We always worked well as a team didn't we?'

'You speak of my alternate on the other side of the rift,' Eck said shyly, 'He sacrificed his life for you both, that was not me, I can lay no claim to such bravery.'

Clara smiled and patted his gaunt cheek, 'You're made of the same stuff Eck, I never doubted that, but maybe now you can prove it to yourself too.'


	4. Chapter 4

The last time the three of them had sat round the kitchen table Clara could not have wished the wasp far enough away. She and the Doctor had barely been together romantically a few days when he had appeared as an emissary at their door and dragged them to the Anushri world only to find a huge rift in time that needed sealing and an adventure that nearly cost all their lives. She had resented him for a time before she had got to know him properly, him and his alternate on the other side of the rift.

Now six months of her time on, Clara poured the tea again and smiled at the gangly yellow and black creature who was petting the Maltheus his people had made for the Doctor. She had come to consider him quite the friend, up there with Vastra and Jenny when it came to associates they had encountered on their journeys. She added two sugars to Eck's drink and began adding several more to the Doctor's to save him having to find the sugar bowl. As she spooned in the sixth, seventh and eighth spoonfuls she began to realise what a relief it was to have Eck in her kitchen to distract and occupy both of them. It had been a long two weeks, a fortnight full of worry and anticipation that the Doctor's sight might not improve, fourteen days of his mood swinging from relaxed to irritable and her trying to keep up a bright but fatiguing optimism.

It was harder now that they were joined mentally. In the past she could paint on a smile and try to fool him but since their relationship had developed she and he shared a telepathic link which was unshakable. She remembered how strongly she had felt it in the rift, how she had felt his pain and his emotions, how she had panicked when he had fallen silent in her head and she had believed him dead. Since then he had shown her how to better master the link. Clara knew now how to maintain some of her privacy if she wished to and how to block out some of his endlessly rambling thought processes and calculations, but it was hard work for a novice and she had limitations.

The Doctor in general was a gentleman and didn't pry, and he was a natural recluse who hid some of his deeper thoughts from her. If he didn't want her to see, she couldn't, which left him with a rather unfair advantage when she knew that he had the skills to knock down her walls whenever he needed to. She trusted him not to force those walls over but right now she was certain he could feel her worrying and fretting that things were not improving and on top of that she had been keeping thoughts of their baby under wraps, apparently unsuccessfully. As she sipped her tea she suddenly realised just how exhausted she felt trying to keep everything under control and let out an involuntary sigh.

'Control freak,' the Doctor whispered in her direction.

'What?!'

'It's OK, just let the walls down now, it must have been hard work…'

'I…'

'Just relax, all that effort and stress…. It's not what you need.'

She could almost hear him add _in your condition_. Clara glared at him, the patronising idiot. 'I'm fine,' she insisted. 'And It's still really creepy when you do that by the way...'

'When I do what?'

'Read my mind…'

'Hard not to at the moment…' he drew a breath and pursed his lips 'Loud… Hormonal… I get it.'

Clara felt her cheeks flush with annoyance before Eck coughed subtly and drew them back into the room. 'Your home is as ever very tasteful,' he said pleasantly with a slightly pleading look at his hostess.

'Sorry Eck,' she said, 'Bickering is a way of life for us. How's the tea?'

'Most refreshing,' he grinned, the ridges of his insectoid gums showing, 'And I see Fido has grown! So pleased he turned out well, he was a bit of an experiment for our scientists, the first of his kind we'd ever made.' Eck patted the spider dog's head. 'They've become quite popular back home, once everyone knew the Doctor had one they became quite the fashion!'

Clara thought back to the planet and the Doctor –worship she had seen there. First his dress sense and now his pet. Well whatever made them happy.

'That's nice. He's turned out to be very useful for us given…' Clara glanced at the Doctor, 'Well given what's happened recently. I never knew they could be used as guidedogs but it turns out he has all sorts of talents.'

'Hopefully he won't need to use them long,' Eck said. 'Such an awful thing to occur.' The Doctor huffed over his tea, irritation mounting.

'Can we stop being all whimsy over my current handicap and discuss why you came here?' he asked edgily.

'I would like to offer my assistance to you, Doctor,' Eck said solemnly.

'That isn't why you came,' the Doctor said.

'Just hear him out,' was Clara's remark.

'Please… you are right I came for assistance but it would not be right of me to demand it when you are thus hindered. I therefore could not possibly insist on drawing on your resources now when your own health must come first.'

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed. 'Well I'm very sorry you feel that way because this blindness doesn't appear to be going anywhere very fast so for the foreseeable future, if you pardon the pun, I'm incapacitated. In fact why don't we do a quick scan and see just how long that future is, I've been meaning to check and then you can try again when I'm more use.'

'Doctor calm down, 'Clara said laying a hand on his arm.

'No clearly I'm no good to anyone like this,' he snapped and she felt a jerk of emotion from his mind, 'Seeing as you both feel compelled to tiptoe around me, protecting me and 'assisting' me until I'm 'better.' What if I don't get better? What if this is it?'

He had stood up mid rant and was leaning over the table on both hands, his two companions looking up at him slightly askance at the sudden outburst. Clara let her mind slowly approach his and caught a glimpse of what he was feeling before his walls slammed up and physically pushed her backwards, she felt the air go from her lungs.

'It's one sense,' The Doctor went on, _one_. I have others, I have several actually. I have more than both of you, I'm telepathic, I can deal with being blind…. Now can we please,' he exhaled suddenly and dropped his empty gaze to the table, head bowed before pulling himself upright again and sliding back into his chair. 'Can we please talk about your planet, Eck?'

Clara heard the rattle of Eck's tea cup as he replaced it in his saucer nervously. 'Of course,' he said quietly, 'Forgive me, I meant no offence.' He folded his claws over themselves and sat neatly opposite the Doctor. Clara glared at her sightless partner.

'He was only trying to help,' she said lowly.

The Doctor passed a hand over his face, 'I know… sorry…' he said shortly. He waved a hand in the direction of the wasp. ' Eck… please…'

Eck glanced at Clara who gave him an encouraging and rather apologetic smile. 'It's a rather long tale,' he started, 'It took us a long time to realise that something was wrong, it crept up on us so gradually, and by the time we saw the true extend of the damage… it was too late…'

XXXXXXX

It made sense she supposed. Clara stopped to listen to the odd wheezing sound coming from the living area. She flicked off the kitchen lights and shuffled in her slippers to the bottom of the stairs, the noise getting louder to her left where Eck lay cocooned in a blanket on their couch.

 _Bzzzzzz_

He was snoring. Except it sounded more like buzzing. She covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. She shouldn't laugh, she should be use to weird things by now, and he'd had a terrible day. Crash landing his shuttle, having to go over the last twenty years of Anushri history in distressing detail, getting snapped at by the increasingly irritable Doctor. Clara's giggle left her, poor Eck he had actually _had_ had a rotten day and the Doctor in his usual manner had not helped. Just when she began to think he was developing people skills he let the side down again.

Maybe she was being harsh. He had things on his mind. She had seen the things and felt glimpses of the emotions earlier but really it was no excuse to be mean to Eck who was an all round good soul who genuinely wanted to help, who genuinely might be able to. And if the Doctor was feeling that bad well then he should speak to her, tell her, communicate. She looked down at the ring she wore on her left hand, half of his own given to her when he didn't feel he would survive. Communicate. They had survived worse than this, surely he had learned by now.

Clara climbed the stairs to their room and closed the door behind her. Fido was warm in his basket in the hall, out cold from all the excitement, eight paws in the air twitching in a dreamstate and his tongue lolling to one side. He made squeaky noises in his sleep punctuated by the occasional low growl.

'He's chasing one of my frogs,' The Doctor commented from the bed where he was stretched out still fully dressed, hands behind his head. 'One of the orange ones, its going round and round a pond eluding him.'

'You can see his dreams?' Clara asked.

'I can. In a lot more detail than the daytime stuff he transmits. He's completely scatty. If he would just focus I might be able to achieve fifty percent vision from our link but he's so easily distracted he never channels like he's supposed to. It's all blobby and dark and he's always looking in the wrong direction.'

'He's still just a puppy and he's never had training,' Clara said kicking her slippers off, 'He's not doing badly considering, and he's keen. Stops you walking into things anyway.'

She heard him sigh, 'Yes well that's enough Maltheus dreamscape for one night, the colours are lurid and it's making me dizzy. I'll reconnect tomorrow.' He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Clara slipped under the covers and peered at him. 'Are you coming to bed properly? Because I'd like to turn the light out, I'm tired.'

'Yes you will be,' he said, his voice slightly more gentle than it had been all day. He slipped a hand over hers and rubbed softly with his thumb. Clara felt his psychic walls shift a little.

'You want to talk?' she tried. The Doctor's jaw clenched.

'You're tired,' he made the excuse. 'But… I'll apologise properly to Eck tomorrow, I've been… pretty bad company.'

'You're often grumpy he's used to that.'

The Doctor let his head rest against the headboard of the bed and stared unseeing at the ceiling. 'Still…' he said.

'He'll appreciate it,' Clara patted his hand and turned for the light.

'I should apologise to you too.'

She turned back. 'It's OK it's been difficult for you…'

'You don't mean that, come on tell me off…'

Clara snorted, 'OK you deserve to be told off you've been grumpy and rude and irritable.' He smiled thinly at her response, 'But I can forgive you a lot because I love you… and because you're scared.'

There was a tiny movement in the muscles of his face but he didn't look away from the ceiling and Clara waited quietly by his side. She felt his walls lower a little more and watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

'It's not getting better,' he said at last. 'There's significant damage.'

'You don't know that…'

'I do…' he paused. 'I… did a scan…'

'When?!'

'You and Eck were chattering in the kitchen, I nipped out to the TARDIS.'

'Doctor! Why didn't you say? I would have come with you!'

'I don't need you to hold my hand all the time. I just needed to know so we… I could figure out how to help Eck best. His people are in a lot of trouble, they can't afford to wait around for me to be fixed. No I needed to know one way or the other. I have ways I can help Eck with or without my sight, I need to know what I'm dealing with.'

Clara listened with the distinct feeling he was trying to convince himself more than her of his reasons. The emotions flickering in his mind told her that actually fear and the passage of time had pushed him. He hated feeling vulnerable and the arrival of Eck, a new witness to his vulnerability had forced his hand. Clara felt a little twist at her heart, they'd been in limbo, now blindness felt like reality.

'So…?' she asked despite herself.

He hesitated. 'Not good. Not as temporary as we thought…'

'Permanent?' she couldn't keep the panic from her voice.

'Possibly…'

'How possibly?'

'Possibly enough for me to be scared,' he said quietly.

Clara watched his face for a moment longer, bare in the warm light of their room, unseeing, the emotions flitting across its surface like sunlight on water. She felt her eyes burn and in reflex pressed her hand to her belly.

'It has to be a mistake,' she said, 'That species, you said…'

'I know, there's never been a case before of permanent harm from the venom… maybe they evolved, more deadly, better defences…. But there's no arguing with the damage.'

'Well there has to be a way to fix it…' she said more firmly, ' I spoke to Eck… he was a herbalist remember, he was the one who made those potions, the ones that healed you in the rift, saved you. If he did it then he can do it again.'

'Maybe,' his voice was low and unconvinced, immediately defeating her attempt at a solution.

'Worth a shot though yes?' she tried again.

'Turn out the light,' he said.

She'd speak to Eck, they'd work it out, she couldn't just sit by and watch him be blinded for life. Eck had already said he would help and that was a starting point and honestly they'd had trickier puzzle than this to solve. Clara made a mental resolution and swallowed it down over the churning in her stomach.

'Clara? You haven't moved so I'm assuming the light is still on. Get some sleep.'

'Right…. Aren't you going to get undressed?'

'I probably won't sleep…'

'You should still try and rest, your eyes might be trying to heal for all you know, try… please...'

Clara watched as a thoughtful sadness settled over his features as shadows. He nodded shortly as though remembering that this was the next stage of his routine and lifted his hand to his the fastenings of his shirt. 'Heal… yes…' he muttered. His sightless blue eyes flickered aimlessly over the space in front of him as he gradually peeled away his clothes, Clara retrieving and folding them nearby between his slowed movements. Finally he joined her under the covers and the light was extinguished.

In the darkness she curled against him, her head on his chest and kissed the space between his hearts. She felt him shift and tilt her body away from him slightly before his hand traced down over her stomach and came to rest on her slightly swollen belly. The difference to her figure was still subtle and a stranger would not have known but his fingertips had come to map her skin and curves to memory over the months and he traced each difference in shape and contour. Instinctively Clara angled her head up and placed a kiss on his lips, the final remnants of his protective walls coming away and allowing her to join him in their telepathic link. She watched the colours swirl together and felt him push deeper, seeking permission to enter her.

It always felt right and special, something shared that only they could understand. From the first powerful links they had formed a few months before, links that had threatened to overwhelm both of them, they had practiced and perfected their movements, held the essence of one another suspended and safe, wrapped in the golden light that he had explained to her as life force and from which she now knew their child had been created. Here again Clara felt herself open to the Doctor, ready to accept him in both mind and body, her skin tingling with the anticipation of his touch.

But something was different this time and it took a moment to realise that warmth was spreading from the hand that laid on her belly and penetrating deep into her body. The distinctive colours she had come to recognise as him now merged with a different set, similar and yet distinct, tinted with the shades of her own being. Once visible she couldn't take her mind's eye from them, they entranced her as perfect flawless parts of a hitherto hidden creature that somehow only he was able to reveal to her despite its home inside her. After a moment the Doctor pulled back from their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, let his hand slip around her back and pulled her close.

'Can you see her?' Clara asked, 'She's a mix of you and me, do you see?'

The warmth settled inside her and Clara felt the Doctor cup her face softly, his fingers touching her temples as they always did before they joined and made love.

'I see her,' he said, 'Right now Clara she is all I _can_ see.'

She pressed her lips together refusing to cry. 'It's going to be OK,' she whispered.

 _What if he never sees her? Never sees her face?_

He shook his head against her slightly.

'I promise it'll be OK,' she said again.

He leaned forward and captured her kiss before she could say more and before any tears could fall, rolling her smoothly so that he was above her, pressing down urgently into her body, the darkness of the room and of his sight highlighting each touch to both of them, focusing them on the colours they were sharing and the sensations of one another's hands and lips. His usual slow style was abandoned and Clara sensed a rising need, a desperation as his fear chased him towards her, his only respite, his safety. He needed her and as ever there was a part of him always afraid she wouldn't be there. Sometimes he seemed he was confidence itself but so often as now she could hear his own doubts, never good enough, one day she'd see, don't leave me. He was flawed, so flawed, and now he was damaged too and it trebled his fear, triggered it again, undid the work of months of reassurance.

Clara pulled him down over her and angled is hips, kissed him deeply, murmured what he found hard to say.

'I need you. You're everything I need, please Doctor.'

He slid inside her body, she felt his breath at her temple, the hammer of his hearts against her chest and sensed his arousal helix suddenly, catching in the back of his throat, urging his hips forward roughly, the air now punctuated with short hard noises of need until something suddenly gave way and he stiffened above her, gasping, his ragged breathing changing finally, becoming softer with each exhalation.

'Sorry… sorry…' he sounded distraught, like he might break down entirely. What was going on?

'It's OK… shhh..' Clara gently rubbed his back, over the healing scars the poisoned claws had left there, worked her fingers up into his hair and held him steady, 'Don't be silly it's OK.'

'I didn't… I shouldn't have….' he started, 'Oh…'

In a moment she felt him jerk backward, scramble off her body, kneel in the dark on the bed.

'Doctor?' Clara squinted, just able to make out his figure, leaning on one hand, the other at his head, the sound of discomfort coming from his chest. 'Doctor what is it? Your wounds? Your head? Tell me...'

Suddenly she saw it, as his neck extended and his mouth opened, as his whole upper body tensed. The golden light spilled over his skin, wrapping itself around his arms and chest, whirling and then suddenly contracting down again. Regeneration. New body, new eyes.

'No!' Clara shrieked, 'No, don't you dare! We can fix this you don't have to do _that_! '

But the light had shifted, folded in on itself and moved, it didn't trickle along his fingers or burn at his chest any longer but centred on his eyes.

'Life force Clara, remember… not the same thing.'

She clutched a pillow to her, looked frantically at the Doctor, the golden light undulating now quite clearly from his face.

'Yeah… I remember…. Regeneration energy…. Same stuff as life force… you can sometimes come over all glowly when we do this but this looks a bit weird… it's all focused it's…'

'I'm trying to _focus_ it that's why… I'm trying to _heal_ ,' he said, 'Its OK…'

'Oh,' Clara closed her mouth and waited. She watched as the light grew more intense. The Doctor's eyes were open but she could no longer see any colour in them, it was as though they were windows onto something else, something completely inhuman but utterly beautiful. As she watched he leaned forward again, bracing his weight on his arms, the light starting to dim and wane as his energy was eaten up by his healing process. Gradually the room went dark.

'Did it work?' Clara said after a beat.

She heard him shuffle a little closer towards her, lean past her body and reach for the lightswitch. Clara squinted against it and looked as quickly as she could at the Doctor who remained eyes shut, tangled in the sheets kneeling before her.

'Open your eyes,' she said filled with sudden optimism, 'Slowly, its bright…'

'Clara if this hasn't worked.'

'It will have worked… brilliant idea… you're brilliant by the way…' she impulsively kissed him on the cheek nerves fluttering in her guts, 'Clever, clever boy, brilliant.' He smiled shyly and slowly began to open his eyes, blinking slightly.

'Well?' Clara said impatiently, 'Are you going to have to look at my ridiculously large face again? Well?' her voice cracked a little. She felt sick, he wasn't looking at her, he was looking past her.

'No,' he said softly.

He wasn't looking at anything at all.

'You might as well turn the light out again, Clara, it hasn't worked.'

She felt her smile fall and the muscles in her face ached with its ghost. It wasn't long before her eyes felt wet and hot.

'Not even a little?' she asked.

'No.'

She watched him position himself back under the covers, tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

'It was a nice idea,' he said, 'But a longshot… I'm sorry that I…. I should have told you what I was thinking of doing… I just didn't know if I could generate enough of the energy… and I couldn't in the end…. There's too much damage. I… I didn't want to get your hopes up.'

Clara fumbled with the light and in the darkness curled behind him. 'It's OK, you had to try.' She felt his hand cover hers on his stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut and trapped her tears. 'It was still a brilliant idea,' Clara whispered, biting hard on her lip, the feel of his aching disappointment escaping from behind his walls even as he tried to build them and shield her from it.

'I'm sorry,' he said weakly.

Behind her own walls, as he fell into an exhausted sleep, Clara made a vow to find a cure.


End file.
